


I Can Be Your Family

by commandercrouton



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Battle, Ben Skywalker - Freeform, Dead Snoke (Star Wars), F/M, Fealty, First Love, Fluff and Angst, GoT inspired, Godswood Marriage, Im trying my best, Its a birthday fic that got out of hand, Light Angst, Rey Kenobi, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Gendrya AU, Skywalker is House Stark, Snoke Being a Dick, i can be your family, idk guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/pseuds/commandercrouton
Summary: “It was a gift,” the boy answers, snatching it back and shoving it in his pocket. “Not that it matters. Where we’re going they have all sorts—rapers, pick-pockets, murderers, all kinds of people.”“Which are you?” Ben asks, staring at the child in a new light.“I’m just a nobody their master got sick of. I worked in the forges too, testing the balances on daggers. What about you?”Ben inspects his torn and dirty clothes, small holes littering the garments. It’s obvious the clothes weren’t made for him. They fall on his skinny frame in a shapeless form. There is no doubt why this scrawny little thing believes he is nobody, and hates his master for it. “I’m nobody, too.”He gives Ben a small smile. “I’m Rey.”Ben almost gives him his name, but stops himself before he can. The entire kingdom is looking for him. If Snoke finds out where he is, he will hold him hostage until his parents swear fealty to the blasted squid. Instead, he lies. “I’m Kylo.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 57
Kudos: 195





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/gifts).



> Okay so this was supposed to be finished MONTHS AGO and I just sat down the past month and forced myself to finish it. It was supposed to be a one shot, then it just kind of exploded. So—
> 
> To my amazing Dalzo, happy belated birthday my wonderful and amazing friend. I love you to the ends of the earth. This is done (the other chapters are currently being beta'd). I hope this is everything you wanted and more! 
> 
> Many thanks to my two betas MyJediLife and EquusGirl for their hard work on going through my hot mess. You guys are the best!

He sits sullenly, waiting for the cart to begin its journey from the small village back to his home in the North. He rubs his now bruising arm and recalls what that man, Mitaka or something, told him before he left. 

_ ‘Blend in, and don’t draw attention. Go to your lady mother, and she will protect you. The North remembers.’ _

Ben Solo was lucky enough to escape the south when Snoke overthrew King Palpatine on his sickbed. His grandfather, the Hand to the King, sacrificed himself to give him the chance to run. 

So Ben ran as fast as his teenaged legs could carry him. He was faster than those traitorous knights, and managed to escape in the sewers beneath the Red Keep. He only looked back when the crowds started congregating to see the beheading of Lord Anakin Skywalker of Winterfell. As soon as the sword swung down, he turned and never looked back. 

Ben looks over and sees a small and scraggly pre-pubescent boy arguing with a much bigger one.

“What you got there, little boy?” a voice sneers, bringing Ben out of his memories. 

“It’s mine, give it back!”

“Where a street urchin like you get a ring like that? What high born did you steal it from?”

“I didn’t steal it, it’s mine.”

Rage floods in his veins. Before he realizes what is happening, he is stomping over, and shoving the boy—who is easily a head shorter than him—away from the child.

He fights the urge to unsheathe the sword gifted to him on his tenth name day almost seven years ago. Instead, he towers over the boy he shoved away and glowers. “You like picking on the little ones, do you?” Ben barely recognizes the little one standing by his side, clutching something in his small and dirty hands. “I’ve been training in the forges since I was a boy. When I hit the anvil it sings. Are you gonna sing when I hit you?” Ben doesn’t know what comes out of his mouth, all he knows is the tactic works, and the boy stumbles away from them.The look of terror on his face is enough for Ben to feel a sliver of guilt, but he quickly moves past it. 

He turns to look at the child next to him, all hazel eyes and freckles dotting across his round face. He looks like he can’t be more than fourteen. 

“Thank you,” he mutters quietly.

Ben just nods and glances at the ring. He holds his palm out, silently asking for permission to inspect this boy’s prized possession. The young boy glances at him with mild distrust, but hesitantly places it in Ben’s hand. He inspects the ring with a critical eye and faintly notices the outline of a crest that none has seen in many years. He briefly wishes to have remembered the crest lessons from Maestor Threepio when he was younger. “Where’d you get this? This is custom made.”

“It was a gift,” the boy answers, snatching it back and shoving it in his pocket. “Not that it matters. Where we’re going they have all sorts—rapers, pick-pockets, murderers, all kinds of people.”

“Which are you?” Ben asks, staring at the child in a new light.

“I’m just a nobody their master got sick of. I worked in the forges too, testing the balances on daggers. What about you?”

Ben inspects his torn and dirty clothes, small holes littering the garments. It’s obvious the clothes weren’t made for him. They fall on his skinny frame in a shapeless form. There is no doubt why this scrawny little thing believes he is nobody, and hates his master for it. “I’m nobody, too.”

He gives Ben a small smile. “I’m Rey.”

Ben almost gives him his name, but stops himself before he can. The entire kingdom is looking for him. If Snoke finds out where he is, he will hold him hostage until his parents swear fealty to the blasted squid. Instead, he lies. “I’m Kylo.”

\----

It takes a month for Ben to realize Rey is not a he, but a  _ she.  _ He is ashamed to admit it takes him that long, but now that he sees it, he can’t  _ unsee _ it. The protective feeling which has taken over Ben increases tenfold knowing Rey is just a young lady surrounded by such vile men. She isn’t safe, which must be why she chopped her hair off and is trying to disguise herself as a boy. 

He keeps a close eye on her, her silent shadow. When they stop for camp, Ben finds her talking to the caged criminals. She stalks away, huffing as one of them says she has more courage than sense. Ben can’t help but agree.

“The watchers said none of us were supposed to go near those three,” Ben offers off-handedly as he carries firewood to the stack.

She rolls his eyes, already used to Ben’s lectures. She continues onward as if he hasn’t spoken. Then she finally graces him with an answer. “They don’t scare me.”

Ben stops in his tracks. Typical Rey—barreling into the thicket without knowing what’s behind it. “Then you’re stupid. They scare me.” 

Ben wasn’t lying—out of the entire group of men with questionable morals around him, only those three were locked up, which meant their crimes must have been monstrous.

The sound of hoofbeats cause the two to stop in their tracks. Gold cloaks glitter in the various streaks of sunlight that filter through the forest. He drops his stack of wood and crouches behind a tree, flattening his now long hair over his ears subconsciously. Rey stares at him curiously, but says nothing. Rather, she positions her small body in front of him, and Ben can’t help but feel a rush of affection for the girl.

“Kylo, what are you doing?” Rey asks quietly, staring as he watches the interaction between the Kingsguard and the Night’s Watch.

“They are looking for me,” Ben answers, desperately trying to flatten himself behind the small tree trunk.

The leader of the Kingsguard soldiers suddenly backs his horse away and yells loudly into the forest, “We are looking for a street rat named Aurelia. She ran off from her master some time ago, and he wants her back. Those who can give us any information will be handsomely rewarded.”

“What does the King want with some bastard slave?” The leader of the troops ask. A man who introduced himself to Ben, but he cannot recall his name at this point. All he knows is, the man is right. What  _ does _ that bastard squid want with a runaway slave?

“The King answers to no one.”

The two watch quietly as the horses gallop away from their gathering. There is an underlying tension between them—the knowledge in knowing Rey knows he is hiding something, and the knowledge that she isn’t who she says she is either. He urges it to disappear, but as he lays awake at night, watching the branches sway in the wind, he knows he needs to tell her the truth. 

Ben has never really had a friend before. There was Poe of House Dameron who would visit in the summer, but he came to rule his lands after his father passed from infection. Whatever was between them, it went deeper than his friendship with Poe. The relationship between himself and Rey is forged on trust, on the basis of the fact without one or the other, they could be hurt by the other travelers, or even die. He knows he needs to tell Rey—for their safety.

The next day as he washes the pots and pans from their measly breakfast, he listens on as one of the boys says if they find the girl they should pass it off to the soldiers. Yielding is better than a battle.

“I ain’t afraid of no battle,” Hotpie interjects. Ben fights back a laugh. The fat one is a lost cause, just trying to be tougher than he is. He finds himself watching out for him as well.

“If you saw a battle, you’d fill your pants,” Ben says, smirking at them in a knowing way. 

“Piss off Kylo. I would not.” Hotpie argues, his round cherub face turning red at the implication he is afraid. Once Ben got to know him more, he forgave him for his first transgression of Rey on the first day they met.

“Liar,” he says instead. The cold water flows over his fingers as he scrubs the remnants of burnt crust out of the pot. The water makes him think of home, and how the snows must be coming in soon. He tries not to think much about Winterfell. It hurts. 

“It’s true! I’ve seen lots of battles. I saw a man kill another man just outside a tavern in Fleabottom.”

“That’s not a battle.” The small group looks up to find Rey bringing a pail to fill with water from the creek.

“Yes, it is, Rey. If they are wearing armor, it’s a battle,” Hotpie explains slowly, as if to a child. The tone causes Rey to bristle.

“Kylo’s an apprentice at an armory like I was. Kylo, tell him that doesn’t make a battle,” she says instead, her voice rising in anger. The angrier she gets, the more feminine her tone is, and Ben briefly wonders if he really is the only one who realizes she is a girl. 

“It doesn’t make a battle,” he instantly says, agreeing with Rey to soothe her. He’d do anything to protect her secret. Not to mention, Hotpie was absolutely wrong.

Rey looks at Hotpie and the others with a condescending look on her face. He fights the urge to grin as he stands and follows her away from the small creek.

“Kylo,” she begins softly, and his gut clenches at the unsure tone in her voice. “What do the gold cloaks want with you?”

“No idea,” he mutters immediately. The plan of telling her tonight after dinner is instantly thrown out the stable.

“Liar.”

“You know, you shouldn’t insult people that are bigger than you.” Ben stands tall over her, proving his point with the way he towers over her. She doesn’t even flinch, and a small part of him warms at her unruliness. He moves to ruffle her hair, but she swats his hand away, and he laughs. He turns around and continues onward, hoping she forgot their conversation.

“Then I wouldn’t get to insult anyone,” she huffs.

He can hear her stomping behind him, always following in his footsteps like a little shadow. He looks at the trees and sarcastically asks, “How can someone so small be such a huge pain in my ass?”

“Questions about me always lead to bad things,” she says solemnly. 

Ben stops and stares at her, all mirth gone at the seriousness she displays. His heart turns to stone, and he wonders what happened in her past to make her feel this way. “What do you mean?”

She doesn’t answer, just crosses her arms petulantly as she avoids his gaze. He can’t read her expression from the way she is looking at the frost covered ground, and it frustrates him to no end. How can he help her if he doesn’t know the root of the problem?

“Rey, tell me,” he says sternly, taking another step forward.

She looks around, checking to see if anyone is listening in and whispers one sentence. “The Hand of the King.”

A cold chill runs down his spine. What was his grandfather doing asking about this bratty little child? 

Rey’s voice drops even lower, and she has never looked so scared, and that—that terrifies him. “He came just a few weeks before he died. He was the one who gave me the ring.”

“Lord Skywalker?” he mutters faintly He can feel his face paling. Was this why his grandfather was running around the kingdom, leaving him to the tutors all week? He grits his teeth as anger settles in. What was so special and taboo about asking questions regarding Rey it cost his grandfather his life?

“He told me to call him Annie. I liked him, he was nice. He told me he would come back to help me, but if anything happened to him to run, so I did. See, questions about me is bad luck.” Her hazel eyes water and she sniffs, doing her best to keep it in. “No one was ever nice to me,” she says to herself.

The pain in her voice stabs his soul. He always knew the life he lived was different than the commoners, but it was never so apparent as it was now. He settles the beast within, feeding off his rage, and calmly asks her, “What did he want to know?” 

“About my parents.”

“Your parents? Who were your parents?”

Rey shrugs, obviously upset she didn’t know the answer herself. “I don’t remember much. I never knew my father, and my mother died while I was young. Someone put me on a boat, and I ended up in the forges. And why are you asking me these questions? I thought they were after you,” she points out.

“I don’t think so, Aurelia.” It was a risk, but he needed confirmation now more than ever.

Her back stiffens and her tanned face pales instantly, freckles disappearing into her skin. At first it looks as if she is afraid, but then her lips purse into a thin line, and he realizes she is not scared, no. She is angry. 

“That’s not my name,” she grits out. 

“Oh come off it, I know you’re a girl,” he hisses.

“I’m not a girl!”

“Prove it, then. Go on, take a piss right now.” If his mother were here she would box his ears for his crude language, but it is the only way to get her to admit it.

She stares at him, obviously not expecting this path in the conversation. “I don’t have to,” she says feebly. 

Ben stares her down until she lets out a resigned sigh and mutters, “No one can know.”

“They won’t, not from me,” he vows. After a minute he continues, “My name isn’t Kylo. It’s Benjen of House Skywalker.”

“I knew it!” She claps gleefully while a smirk grows on her face. The rapid mood change almost startles him, but he realized that’s just Rey—good at compartmentalizing.

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. I looked at your sword one night when you were sleeping. I recognized the crest. Annie was your Grandfather. I’m sorry for what happened to him. Snoke deserves the crows to peck his eyes out for what he did. Granted, King Palpatine wasn’t great either after taking the throne from King Kenobi, but he was the lesser of two evils.”

Ben frowns at her. “How does a commoner like you know the history of Kings?”

“Doesn’t everyone know?” she asks, blinking up at him.

“No, King Palpatine had those records scorched. Only those loyal to House Kenobi are ever taught the truth, like my grandfather. When Palpatine took over and murdered Kenobi, my grandfather thought it was for the best, until he realized how truly evil Palpatine was. He left the North and instead watched over the kingdoms, doing his best to curb his bloodlust.”

Rey listens intently until a mischievous grin crosses her face. “So you are highborn. You’re a lord.”

“No, I mean yes. My mother is a Lady, my father was a commoner. They fell in love.”

“But you grew up in a castle?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry about the vulgar words I uttered earlier. If you tell my mother, she will make me sleep in the kennels for the night. That’s where I am going. I’m going back home, to Winterfell.”

“I should be calling you My Lord.” Her hazel eyes shine with amusement.

“Don’t call me that,” Ben orders.

“As My Lord commands,” she smirks at him.

He shoves her, vaguely aware of her size.

“Well, that wasn’t proper,” she laughs and he finds he doesn’t mind it at all.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn’t until the battle is over and the survivors are lined up by the army who attacked them does he see her standing next to Hotpie. He has never felt such relief at the sight. They stand next to each other silently, and as they walk to the castle as prisoners, her hands grip his tightly in the night.
> 
> As long as they are together, they will make it. They have to.

Fire surrounds the camp, and all he can hear are the sounds of people dying, and he has no idea where she is—but he has to find her. Fear threatens to overtake him as he thinks what the gold cloaks will do to her once she is found, so he continues to fight. The sword grows heavy in his hands, but he knows he cannot stop. Not when her life is on the line.

It isn’t until the battle is over and the survivors are lined up by the army who attacked them does he see her standing next to Hotpie. He has never felt such relief at the sight. They stand next to each other silently, and as they walk to the castle as prisoners, her hands grip his tightly in the night.

As long as they are together, they will make it. They have to.

He repeats this mantra to himself in the night as they are led to where other prisoners are kept. They call the castle Mustafar, and he recalls his grandfather telling him stories of these haunted grounds—where prisoners went mad with the darkness that surrounds it. He can smell bodies burning, and he stands closer to Rey. The smell nauseates him, and he can feel the fear emitting from their group in waves. 

He guards her as best as he can, that is until Lord Brendol Hux appears. He instantly recognizes Rey for a girl, and insists she works for him as a cupbearer. Ben is ashamed to admit how relieved he is at knowing she is safe, even with a man who sided with King Snoke. All that matters is that she is protected, and he is sent to the forges to work. 

The next day he catches her trying to fight with a sword, and he helps her. He makes the mistake of clutching her hips as he adjusts her stance and he can feel her curves under the shapeless shift she wears to disguise her figure. A heat unfurls underneath his fingertips as he grips her waist tighter, and he can swear she gasps at the feel of his touch. 

Stepping away, he clears his throat and uses his own sword from now on to adjust her stance. They practice every chance he gets, and he is surprised that Lord Hux encourages it. He wants to protect her as well, it seems.

A week passes, and she’s grabbing him and Hotpie, telling them they can escape. That night, they walk through the courtyard and no one stops them. When he asks her who helped her plan this, all she says is no one.

They walk through the woods, and he tells them they can continue north, his family will protect them. It’s all that pushes them forward until the Brotherhood stops them. What’s worse is they recognize him. Instead of turning him in though, they help him. They seem just as eager to stop the war as he wants to. 

“Your father is marching south,” Ser Beric tells him one day as they watch Rey practice her form.

Ben does his best to prevent any shock from marring his features. “My father?”

“Yes, with your uncle. They are storming the countryside in anger against Snoke for your grandfather’s murder.” He pauses just a moment before continuing, “And yours.”

At this Ben has to look at him, taking his eyes off Rey. “Me? But I’m not dead!”

He looks at his arms, assuring himself he is still alive and well, not one of the many ghosts who haunt the lands. Guilt settles within him as he realizes this whole time, his poor mother thought he was slaughtered with her father. Her only heir sent to the butcher like an innocent lamb. The urge to run all the way to Winterfell is strong, if only to be held by his mother once again, but Ser Beric continues, unaware of his plight.

“Apparently not, but you haven’t been seen for nigh on six months. The usurper Snoke cannot offer you to your parents to appease their anger, your grandfather is murdered, and now the country is being torn apart.”

“Am I to be turned in to the enemy or my parents?”

Ser Beric stares at him. “Han Solo helped me out of a few scrapes in my day. You’re going home. The question is, what are we going to do with that one?” he nods at Rey.

“Rey is coming with me,” Ben declares with finality.

“Oh, is that true?” Beric raises an eyebrow at him, examining him in a way that makes Ben feel exposed. 

Ben turns to look at Beric with the tone in his voice—something that tells him he knows something Ben does not. Almost as if Beric can see the burgeoning feelings that have begun to grow within his heart for Rey. The look is almost one of pity.

“You should talk to the girl.” With a slap to his shoulder, Beric stands and begins to walk away, but before he gets too far, he turns back to Ben and calls out, “Remember, the Force works in mysterious ways.”

As Ser Beric walks away, Ben turns to find Rey staring at them. She is biting her bottom lip, giving it a beautiful color that reminds him of the roses he saw in the south. He faintly thinks that he wants to be the one to give her lips that color. It’s a ridiculous thought within itself. She still looks like the scraggly young boy he helped all those months ago, but something has changed in their travels. Perhaps she has grown, or it’s the way he knows how to make her laugh when the days have been particularly hard. 

“Rey, what is it?” he asks, taking a step forward.

He tries to ignore the stab of betrayal he feels when she steps away from him. There were countless moments in their travels when she would come to him for safety, for protection, and somehow in this moment, he seems to be the one she needs protection from. 

“I’m not going with you.”

The words she utters are a whisper that feels like a scream, echoing inside his brain again and again, searing into his memories. He will never forget this moment. The way she has her arms around her abdomen protectively, how she cannot seem to look him in the eye, the way her chestnut hair—which is growing longer every week—blows in the wind. Her cheeks are flushed and there are tear stains on her face. 

Ben clenches and unclenches his fist. 

“What—,” he starts, then tries again, trying to form the right words, but nothing seems to be making sense because his perfect Rey doesn’t want to be by his side—and the world is upside down—and he can’t seem to breathe properly anymore, “—what do you mean you aren’t coming with me? I’ll protect you. It’s going to be fine.”

“Ben, no. The King wants me, and I don’t know why. They are looking for a girl, and I can’t put you at risk.”

He shakes his head, unable to see reason. He can fix this. He _has_ to. “There is no risk. Is it your hair? We can cut it again, or I can braid it for you, and we can hide it under a hat. Just, please—” His lips snap shut before the way he feels about her tumbles out of his chapped lips. He can feel the blood roaring in his ears as his brain repeats the same thing over in his head: 

_Please no, stay with me. We belong together._

“It’s not safe for me to travel with you anymore. Hotpie is thinking of staying at the next bar we stop at, and I plan on joining him. It’s getting harder and harder for me to hide.”

“You still look like a young boy, like you can’t be no more than twelve.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. She huffs and stamps her foot in annoyance. “Is that all I am to you, just a stupid little boy you need to protect?”

  
  
“What? Of course not, you know this. You’re...you’re more than that.” Why doesn’t she understand? Can she not tell from the way he always makes sure she has plenty to eat, how he refuses to sleep until he is sure she is safe and protected? His father always said actions speak louder than words, so why isn’t she _hearing_ him?

“Ben, I’m not sure when my birthday is, but I do know when winter passes I will be celebrating my fifteenth name day—”

It doesn’t hit Ben until that moment she is just three years younger than him, and if she was a lady she would be betrothed or married by now. The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

“—not to mention if I travel with you and we run into strangers, it’s dangerous. Strangers notice things our friends do not.”

“What can they notice that will put me at risk?”

She purses her lips. “Do not make me say it. You cannot be that much of an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” he argues hotly. 

“Then why do you think it is not safe for a young lady parading as a boy to travel with a band of men?”

“I don’t know, that’s what I am trying to figure out you insufferable—” His hands run through his hair, a trait he picked up from his father whenever he was annoyed.

“I got my moon cycle, you nitwit!”

Ben’s mouth drops, then closes, before opening again. He is sure he looks like a fish out of water, but he cannot seem to stop. Sense seems to return to him as he looks around quickly, ensuring no one else can hear their conversation. 

“Rey, someone might hear you,” he admonishes. Ben steps forward, invading her space and gently pulls her further away from the campgrounds.

“Ben, this is one thing you cannot save me from. I am a woman, and I can’t endanger you like this. Leave me behind and go back to your family. You are a Lord, and your family needs you by their side.”

“No.” He shakes his head, and he can tell she is not pleased by his stubbornness. Just as well. If she can be obstinate, then so can he. 

“They will notice if we keep going. We are at least another month’s travel away from Winterfell. They are going to notice when I wake with blood between my legs, or if I cut strips of clothing to rags.”

He does not know what to do. She is right, and he knows this. He hates that she is making sense. 

“Ben, when you get home you can send me a letter. That way we will know the other is safe, but for now, it is best if we part ways. Maybe they’ll be my new family. I never had a family, not any I can fully remember.”

“I can be your family.” His voice breaks, a mirror of his heart and soul in this moment.

Her gaze is sad and gentle all at once. “You wouldn’t be my family, you’d be My Lord.”

She walks away from him, and the image breaks his heart.

He doesn’t talk to her for the rest of the day.

\----

That night he wakes to the sound of screaming, and the brotherhood calling for arms. He sits up and automatically grabs a weapon, ready to fight off whoever is attacking them when a cry draws his attention.

His brown eyes drift until he sees the image of Rey fighting off a behemoth of a man, and Ben—

Ben sees red.

With a strangled cry he runs to her, sword drawn and ready to maim whoever will harm his fair lady. 

Rey stumbles back with her small sword the minute Ben inserts himself into the fight. He is outmatched, but the thought of Rey being discovered—he refuses to think of worse—fuels his anger and his strength. 

In one movement, Ben’s sword cuts through a soft spot in the armor along the man’s ribs, sliding easily between skin, muscle, and bone. Crimson liquid falls out of his mouth in a sputter, spraying Ben’s face and body with the markings of death at his hands. 

“Ben,” Rey cries, a relieved sob falling out of her mouth. Ben wants to reassure her, let her know he is okay, but all he can do is gently brush his hand against hers before other soldiers take the man’s place, and he has no time to do more. Rey stands back to back with him, and Ben knows no matter what, they will defend one another to the death.

Their armor is marked with the emblem of the squid—Snoke’s sigil. 

“We’ve been looking for you, Lord Solo. Your parents have caused quite the disruption when you went missing,” one of the guards says.

A crazed smile grows on his face. They are here for him, not for her, and he knows in that moment, everything will be fine. 

It has to be. 

Swords blur and clash against one another. Rey leans against his back, her hand grasping his thigh to use his weight to help fight off their attackers. He wants to assure her, to shove her aside and fight them off, but he knows he would not survive this fight if she was not here. She has already taken down two soldiers, and he, one. 

Before the remaining soldiers can focus their attention on them, Ser Beric comes to their aid. 

And in just a few moments, the battle is over. None of Snoke’s attack dogs remain. Blood and grime cover both Ben and Rey, but they barely even notice as they inspect the other.

“You need to leave,” Ser Beric interrupts them. 

Before Ben can come up with some reason why that is a terrible idea, and he refuses to leave Rey, Beric continues.

“The both of you. Ben, they know you are here, and they won’t stop tracking us down to come after you. When the soldiers do not return, they will know something is suspicious, and come looking. We will burn what we can, but there is no guarantee. Rey, if they come back, we cannot protect you. It’s dangerous for a woman to travel alone, go with Ben, Lady Skywalker will protect you.”

“We have no supplies, how are we supposed to get there?” Rey asks, getting straight to business. 

“Travel northwest, two days on foot, there you will run into a tavern who is loyal to the Skywalkers. They will protect you. May the Force be with you,” Beric concludes as he thrusts a knapsack filled with extra clothes, old bread, and hard cheese. Rey mutters out a small thank you as she sees the cut rags in the bottom. 

They don’t get a chance to say goodbye before Beric is pushing them into the right direction of the forest. Traveling at night is dangerous, but staying is worse.

\----

When they walk through the tavern, the bar’s mistress instantly zeroes in on them. With a nod of her head, they follow her to a back room, avoiding the curious gazes of the patrons by looking at the well-worn floor.

“As I live and breathe,” the mistress whispers before directing her attention to Rey. “Be a dear and close the shutters. We do not want these words repeated.”

Ben watches as Rey shuts the slabs of wood, barring them for good measure, and the mistress lights stray candles around the room, bringing light to the darkness. 

Shadows dance around her old face, emphasizing her dark skin, wrinkles, and small eyes. Ben takes in a deep breath as she steps to him, examining him with eyes that seem to see _more_ than just his features. It only takes a moment before she is doing the same to Rey.

“My dear lady, you have seen so much. The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead,” she says, oh so gently, but Rey visibly flinches at her word—the statement nestling deep within her soul.

“Ser Beric said you could help us. Is it true?” Ben asks, drawing the old lady’s attention to him again.

“It is,” she nods.

“And may I ask who you are?” he stands taller, his noble line surging in his voice.

“No, you may not, but I’ll tell you anyway. I am Maz Kanata, a good friend of your father’s.”

Ben chokes on air. “You know my father?”

Maz gives him a smile tinged with a hint of smugness. “Han has traveled through these parts more than a few times before he ran into your mother. If I remember correctly, they actually met here. She was traveling down with her brother to stay with their father for the summer when he was still Hand to King Kenobi.”

Ben’s longing for home intensifies at this new information, his chest aching. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s not something your grandfather wanted advertised,” she says wryly, before her expression turns serious. “Now, you two need horses, and to replenish your supplies. But first, you both need a bath and a warm meal.”

“We can’t pay you.” Rey tilts her head up, meeting Maz’s eyes head on. To her surprise, Maz laughs.

“When you get home, you tell Han he owes me one. When dawn breaks you will be on your way out, and be sure to dress warm. Winter is coming.” The tension in Ben’s shoulders eases a little at this knowledge, and he gave Maz a small grateful smile before she waltzes out of the room, leaving the two alone.

\----

Maz keeps them in separate bedrooms for the night, and he hates it. He feels as if he can’t breathe with her out of his sight. The urge to walk over to her room is strong—to the point he stops himself from leaving the room more than once. The lack of her quiet snores and mumbled talking is disconcerting. He knows it is not proper for a man and woman to share a room, but they’ve always slept by one another before. 

He sleeps in short bursts instead. Every creak causes him to wake, grabbing the sword by his bedside. When his door opens, he bolts upright—sword drawn and eyes wide.

The sight of Rey in the candlelight makes him freeze, and it seems his heart has stopped beating. 

“Rey, what are you doing here?” he whispers, setting the sword down gently.

“I can’t sleep without you. I keep hearing noises.” She looks down, shifting from foot to foot. “It scares me.”

“This isn’t proper.” Ben is grateful for the darkness, which is currently hiding his blushing cheeks and ears. Somehow, this seems different than all those nights they slept under the stars. Here in this room, with his heart beating strongly against his ribcage, it feels intimate. A feeling he wants to become familiar and cherish as he continues to watch her. 

She steps forward and slips under his sheets. “We were past proper when you told me to take my prick out and piss in front of you,” she whispers, snuggling deeper into the covers.

Ben groans and lays down beside her. 

“Night Ben,” she mumbles, nuzzling closer to his side. The warmth soothes him, and he can already feel sleep overtake him as his eyelids droop. Hesitantly, he throws his arm over her, and she sighs happily. A small smile takes its place on his heated face as he draws her in.

“Night Rey.”

They are asleep in moments.


	3. Chapter III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a rough semester of grad school and working, I am back for the summer. Here is the third chapter to my Gendrya inspired Reylo. Enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to my beta who kicked ass

It takes a month, an extremely long month, before he sees the castle of Winterfell—his  _ home _ .

They run into few people on the roads they take thanks to Maz’s advice—but the traveling wasn’t the dangerous part.

It was the lingering glances, the blushed faces when the other had to change or bathe, the soft brush of skin against skin as they made camp at night. Nothing could prepare him for the way it felt for their skin to be pressed against one another as they slept together under the night sky. Something similar to being in battle with the way his skin felt electric and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He would be mortified if she knew how many times he had to take himself in hand to ease the urge growing inside of him, but he would dare not take her virtue. 

She deserved more than sweet whispers and empty promises.

She deserved a husband who would not be betrothed to another highborn house. 

“Ben, is that...is that your home?” she asks, staring at the wide expanse of the castle, her eyes even wider.

“It’s been so long.” His gaze lingers on the grounds, eyes catching on the red leaves of the Weirwood trees on their ground.

“Will your mother hate me?” Her voice comes out small and nervous.

His attention is brought back to the woman next to him. The months on the road have done nothing to her body, but there is a softness to her jawline now that wasn’t there before. Perhaps it is the way her hair is longer now, framing her face in a pleasing way. There is a sense of unease in her shoulders, and he watches as she bites her bottom lip.

“Never. She will love you. Now come, let’s go home.”

They leg their horses up into a gallop, and before he realizes it, they are welcomed through the gates of his home. 

His Lady Mother is walking through the courtyard, and she freezes when she sees him. 

“Mother,” his voice is a whisper, but it carries on the cold wind. The moments slow down and cannot go fast enough as he jumps from his horse to land with a thud on the ground. The faces surrounding them blur, because all he can focus on is his mother’s face. Before he can tell what has passed, they are in each other’s arms. Tears fall down his face as he feels her stroke his long and straggly hair, squeezing him tightly. The scent of old parchment and fire from the hearth paired with the light scented lemon water she uses calms him as he remembers nights where she sat by his side, too scared from nightmares to sleep. He was taller than her when he left the first time, but now—now he is a giant compared to her. 

“My brave little wolf, how did you survive?” she murmurs quietly just for his ears alone.

They pull apart but are still joined at the hands. “I shall tell you all about it, but first, please meet my companion, Lady Aurelia Rivers,” he says, letting go of one of his mother’s hands to gesture to Rey

He watches as his mother takes in the woman still on horseback behind him; wincing as his mother’s eyebrows raise at Rey’s appearance. Maybe he should have introduced them  _ after _ she had the chance to clean up and look like...well, a lady. 

Rey hops off the horse, landing on her feet as graceful as the cats around King’s Landing. She curtsies—remarkably well for a bastard child raised in the forges—and smiles, though it cannot hide the wariness in her eyes.

“Rey, this is my mother, Leia Skywalker, Lady of Winterfell.” His mother stands taller, tilting her face as she assesses the woman he brought with him to her home.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Skywalker,” Rey says, bowing her head. He notices her voice is not coming out as strong. 

“I thank you for accompanying my son on his perilous journey. Many will say it is not befitting of a lady to travel with a young man without guardian, but I daresay these are extenuating circumstances,” Leia says as she raises an eyebrow, looking Rey up and down. “Not to mention, none would confuse you for a lady in that outfit.” And with that, Lady Skywalker turns on her heel and sweeps out of the courtyard, signaling the end of the conversation. 

Rey looks to him for some kind of answer on what to do next. He motions for her to follow his mother, while he passes the reins to a stablehand.

“Ben, I will ensure a bath will be drawn for you in your quarters. Aurelia—”

“Please call me Rey,” she interrupts, hurrying after Leia. 

Leia purses her lips, undoubtedly not used to being interrupted, but forgives the discourteous action. “Rey, I will see to it that you have a room in our wing for the time being. A servant will be along shortly to take you to your room, and they will assist you in bathing. Am I right in assuming you have no other dress?”

“No I do not, M’Lady.”

“I’ll have someone fetch a dress for the time being.”

A servant walks in quickly, handing Leia a sealed scroll. In the firelight, Ben can see the silver wax seal of a direwolf. He knows it’s from his father. Her lips purse and eyebrows furrow in worry. Ben realizes just then how old his parents have become while he was away. How many years did they waste while he was gone? 

Rey studies him and she knows he can tell how hard he is trying to maintain a strong facade for his mother.

“I must read this. Meet me in the great hall once you are dressed and fed.

Ben watches his mother walk away from him, already tending to business despite reuniting with the son she has not seen for almost three years when he traveled south to learn politics from his grandfather. The sight almost hurts him, if Rey wasn’t there to squeeze his hand in comfort.

\----

“Kriff!”

Rey’s voice echoes through the damp and wintry halls, and Ben fights the urge to smile—until he sees the raised eyebrows of his mother. Clearing his throat, he stands straighter and smooths out his doublet. It’s been months since he has felt such fine thread, and his large fingers dust over the raised edges of the silver thread. His grey cloak is lined with fur, held together by a pure silver direwolf clasp. 

He can’t help but think how much food just this one clasp could bring him. Is this what Rey thinks every chance something nice passes her hands? No matter the hardships they faced, they never had to face the unspoken rule they would not sell their most prized possessions—his, a sword, and hers, the ring his grandfather gifted her.

“Rey, I thank you for joining us,” his mother’s voice brings him back from his thoughts, and he looks up—and his mind goes blank.

Ben’s mouth drops open, and he can’t seem to shut it. He knows he should close it before his mother scolds him for his impropriety, but he can’t seem to care. Because Rey is standing there, tall and proud, looking nothing like the Rey he has come to know. This Rey is a woman, resplendent in a fine dress of grey. Her hair is styled in a northern fashion, with the top half styled in a braided bun while the rest falls over her shoulders. She is beautiful. She is ethereal. She is everything he could ever want, ever  _ desire _ . 

As she stands there in the halls of his ancestral home, robed in his family’s colors, he knows at this moment there will never be another for him.

“I thank you for your warm hospitality and the fine clothes, M’Lady. I promise I can work off whatever I owe. I am trained in the forges, but I can learn whatever you need me to do,” she promises with a hard edge to her voice. Her hazel eyes resemble stones of amber, firm and glinting in the firelight. 

At this statement, Leia’s eyebrows raise. “Work off a debt? I will hear no such thing. You delivered my only child, and heir to Winterfell, back to me. I am indebted to you.”

A blush tinges Rey’s cheeks, highlighting her freckles. 

Leia settles herself in the Lord’s chair, and fixes them with a stern stare. “Now, tell me everything.”

By the time they finish their story, albeit with certain bits edited for his mother’s ears, he is surprised to see tears trailing down her face.

“The traitor Snoke murdered my father and made us believe you were lost forever. The malicious Palpatine may be dead, but his ghost laughs while we are thrust into a war for a crown only a snake wants.” Leia’s face is filled with sorrow and anger. She grips the chair tightly, the blue stones on her ring a startling contrast to the whiteness of her fingers.

“I don’t understand, why was there not a war when King Palpatine usurped King Kenobi?” Rey asks.

Leia seems to assess her in a new light. “You know the story of King Kenobi?”

Rey looks between the two. “Ben—forgive me—My Lord said the same thing upon our first meeting.”

His heart sinks at the formal title. Rey refuses to even meet Leia’s gaze, instead she looks to the floor in an act of respect.

Leia brings her hands together, clasping them tightly as she seems to consider the best way to tell the story of their land’s past.

Clearing her throat, she begins the tale. “King Kenobi was a dear friend to my family, he practically raised my father—they were as close as brothers. In an effort to merge the family into one, he betrothed my father to his daughter, but it was met with anger on both sides. Lord Skywalker fell in love with a lady who hailed from Riverrun, my mother, Lady Padme. Together, the betrothed tried to come up with a plan to stop the wedding without offending any houses, but before it could be completed, Lady Kira went missing.

“If my father ever knew what had happened to her, he never said. It destroyed King Kenobi. He lost his wife in the birthing bed, and he had no other heirs. None could ever replace the child he had lost. He sent his most loyal lords and knights to search the kingdom for her, including my father. He was in Dorne on one of those expeditions when he got word Palpatine slayed the king as an act of subjugation, though Palpatine never explained his reasons. Thus, King Kenobi died a traitor to the crown, and only those still loyal to him raise a glass in his name. Ben was named after him. They only met once. King Kenobi died when Ben was a young child.”

Rey looks to Ben with a teasing smile on her face, and he nods in confirmation. “My full name is Benjen Solara Skywalker-Solo. Quite the mouthful.”

“And where does Kylo fit in?” Rey’s grin slowly grows as she examines him with a raised eyebrow.

“It doesn’t,” he smirks. He can feel his mother’s eyes on them, observing their interaction closely. 

The smile on her face turns forced as she mulls over her next words. “I’m just Rey.”

The defeated look on her face destroys him. He wants to shout she is  _ more _ than just Rey to him. She is his sun, his moon and stars, his reason for living. Yet, here she stands, thinking she is nothing, but she is not. 

Not to him. 

“Rey, you are—”

“You said my father gave you something?” Leia interrupts, and he wants to strangle his mother.

“Oh, yes, he did.” She reaches into the top of her gown and Ben pointedly looks away, as if he has not felt her budding breasts pressed against his back as they slept on their travels. 

Instead, he waits until he sees his mother inspecting the object in his peripheral. Leia observes the object with an inquisitive gaze. Her eyes still on the sigil—a proud stag—and her hands close to a fist around the ring.

“Did my father say anything else, anything at all, when he gave this to you?”

Rey must sense the change in Leia’s tone. Ben notices the way she draws taller, face more guarded as she tries to calculate just what answer Leia is digging for. 

“What does it matter? He’s gone now, and he entrusted that ring to me,” Rey counters with a set jaw. 

His mother bristles at Rey’s tone. Ben would feel sorry for her, if it didn’t come at the expense of Rey’s safety. 

“Where did you grow up?” Leia asks instead.

Rey frowns and her brow creases as she struggles to remember. “I was born in Braavos, at least that was what I was told. I never knew my father, and my mother, well, she got sick when I was young. She planned a trip for us to go back to her father, but she didn’t survive. I went on my own, and was given to Plutt to work in his forges. I guess my grandfather died a while back. I had no one.”

Ben and Leia share a look—an entire conversation passes between them of unspoken thoughts and agreements.

“Rey, please, did my grandfather say anything to you?” Leia’s tone gentles and takes on a tender expression.

Rey looks around, unsure if she should speak one of her most guarded secrets aloud. Her eyes soften as they land on him, and he can feel his tense muscles relaxing under her gaze. 

“Um, when he gave me the ring, he just said to keep it safe. Those who recognize it will help me if I ever needed it. Although, he did say something weird the first time we met.”

Ben nods at her encouragingly as he watches her bite her lower lip. 

“He said ‘the seed is strong.’ I never understood what he meant. This was back before I knew who Annie was.”

“You called Lord Skywalker, the Hand of the King, Annie?” Leia asks incredulously.

“That’s how he introduced himself to me,” Rey says, defending her actions. Taking a step forward she reaches out her hand, indicating she wants the ring back.

“Ben, why don’t you give Aurelia a tour of the land. I have things I must attend to. We must also discuss your plans.”

“My plans?” He cocks his head as he looks at his mother.

“Your father is at war, Ben, fighting in your name. Are you planning to join him, or stay behind the walls?” Leia stands tall from the chair she was sitting. She makes her way out of the library, and Ben watches her leave.

His mother’s steps and last words echo in his mind for the rest of the day.

\----

“Excuse me, My Lord, but Lady Skywalker requests your presence. Your father’s bannermen have come to discuss the campaign your father is currently on.”

Ben gives Rey an apologetic look, and she smiles at him, knowing he has no choice in the matter. The day of rest and a good meal has done remarkable things to her demeanor. In an act of bravery, he reaches across the table separating them, and squeezes her hand before he takes his leave. He doesn’t have the strength to see her reaction. 

As he walks into the hall, he sees his mother sitting proudly to the right of the head seat—the seat reserved for the Lord of Winterfell. The display is clear for those swearing fealty to his family. Ben is the heir to Winterfell, their liege Lord who has returned home at last.

Ben eyes the houses in his domain—House Dameron, House Storm, Hose Tico, and other, smaller ones he can’t seem to recall. Rather than risk offending anyone, he asks them all to state their name and business.

A man with curly black hair steps forward, wearing a vest of orange and black. “Lord Poe Dameron sir, and we’ve come to pledge our allegiance to the North. Snoke has thrust us into a civil war. At least with Palpatine he had control over the lands. The squid reaches out but has no grip. He has offended us by murdering our Lord Anakin Skywalker with no reason, as well as invading our lands. His soldiers have razed our farmlands, stole from our people, and still, he marches on, claiming it is his right for our disobedience.”

At this, a lady stands, proud and tall. “I will not stand idly by while our people suffer. My parents did not leave their land to me to watch it fall to Southerners who stab us in the back.”

Ben looks to his mother discreetly, and she takes over. “I thank you Lady Connix for your proud statement, as for you Lord Dameron. What do you propose we do?”

“My house plans to join your father, and fight,” Lord Dameron states.

Murmurs of agreement shoot up, voices clamoring over one another as they try to pledge soldiers to the cause.

“I must ask, what happens when we dispose of Snoke. There is no other in his line. Who is to take his place as king?” Lady Rose Tico stands tall despite her short frame, and her voice carries authority with it. 

Everyone in the room seems to look to one another until Lord Dameron speaks up. “We will remember how our Lord of Winterfell lost his best friend from the usurper Palpatine. We will remember how our Lord of Winterfell was slaughtered by the next usurper Snoke. We will remember how The Squid spread lies and rumors our next Lord was killed as well. The North remembers, and we will always remember.”

Lady Rose continues Poe’s speech as if everyone in the room knew the decision from the start. “On this day, the North shall swear no fealty to southern kings. We know no king, but the King in the North whose name is Skywalker. Lord Benjen is my king, from this day to his last day.”

“Lady Tico speaks truly, and House Storm agrees,” Lord Finn declares. “We will stand behind House Skywalker as we have done for a thousand years.” At this, he unsheathes his sword and brings it down to the ground below him. “All hail The Black Wolf—The King in the North!”

In moments, swords are rising in the air as the holders all chant one thing in succession:

_ All hail the King in the North! _


	4. Chapter IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dealing with stuff emotionally and mentally and can't really write it. I think it's best for me to be upfront and open about it because the first step is acknowledging that something is wrong. I am so thankful for the couple of friends that have checked on me since. Just making the effort to check in with me and ask how I'm doing means more to me than you could ever know. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter.
> 
> And as always, many thanks to my beta, EquusGirl

Ben sends word to his father he will be joining him on the field, along with the other houses in their kingdom. From their travels, they know it is not just Snoke, but House Hux and House Canady also have soldiers marching north. All it will take is one battle—one battle to draw out the king and slaughter him. 

Rey is assisting with the battle plans thanks to her knowledge of King’s Landing sewer system when his mother sweeps in. All bow their heads in respect, but the way his mother looks at Rey shakes him to his core. 

“If you could give me a moment with my son.” Leia’s tone brokered no cause for argument. 

As Rey walked past, Leia stopped her with a look.

“Lady Aurelia, please stay closeby, we will need you back in a moment.”

Rey looked back and forth between son and mother, nodded once, then picked up her skirts to walk out of the room.

“Did you find confirmation?” Ben stared at her figure as she exited the room. Her back was straight, but he could still sense the unease she felt in the fashion she was forced to wear. 

In response, Leia placed a miniature frame on the table. Ben picked it up, the small painting setting nicely in his large palms. As he held it closer upon inspection, he saw a young woman with chestnut hair and hazel eyes looking back at him. The same eyes he sees in Rey whenever she smiles. 

“It looks like Rey, does it not? At first, I wasn’t so sure, until I saw her smile.” Leia sat down across from him.

“Where did you get this?” he asks. He does not want to think of the possibilities this may bring. The possibilities of their life together, and even more, the possibility of their life without one another. 

“In your grandfather’s chest. It was the painting King Kenobi sent when the betrothal was announced. This is one of the last photos of Lady Kira of House Kenobi, Lady Aurelia’s mother. Which makes Lady Aurelia—”

“A Kenobi. She is the last heir to the throne,” Ben finishes the statement. “What are we to do?”

“We place her on the throne in the southern kingdom and ensure the peace between our kingdoms last. As King Kenobi wished, your children and hers will be married. What do you think of Lord Dameron for her?” His mother begins to pace back and forth, her mind already going through different possibilities of the various outcomes. But Ben—his heart is breaking and his mother is none the wiser. She continues on without even seeing the looking of pain on her son’s face, “Or perhaps it would be best to bring in one of the houses who have pledged themselves to Snoke? Once they realize who she is, they will surely switch sides. As for you, I was thinking of Lady Kaydel Connix.”

“No.” The anger in his voice surprises them both.

“Ben, this is not a game.” His mother frowns at him, the same expression she would use to force him to stop his tantrums. Ben isn’t a child anymore though, and he refuses to entertain the thought of her being with another.

“I know that mother, but Rey isn’t...she deserves more than to be married to the highest bidder. She deserves love.”

His mother looks at him with pity in her eyes. “My little wolf, you know this is not in the cards for us of noble blood. We marry for political reasons. You will marry a northern woman to seal your throne, just as she will marry another to ensure the Kenobi bloodline. I have already ordered gowns to be made in Kenobi’s black and gold. It is the way.”

Ben clenches his hand, his mind already loathing the change in her wardrobe. Next, his mother will insist she style her hair in the southern style, send her away to the Dornish country to learn their mannerisms, away from the fighting. Rey is more to him than some lost heir. She is  _ everything _ to him, and she deserves a life that he could never have. 

Just as Ben is about to fight his mother more on the matter, she has already walked away, motioning for Rey to come inside. He watches in frustration as Rey’s eyes dart to the windows and doors of the room, looking for an escape. The scavenger in her will never disappear. 

“Lady Aurelia—”

“Please, M’Lady, do not call me that. My name is Rey. I am no lady.”

“That is where you are wrong. Have a seat, child.”

Rey’s expression of distrust grows as she settles in the seat directly next to Ben. She angles her body toward him. This one movement would settle his nerves, but in this moment, it does nothing because he knows he can do nothing for her. Not anymore. 

“You are Princess Aurelia Kenobi, daughter of Princess Kira Kenobi, daughter of the great King Benjen Kenobi. You are the last heir to the throne, and you are the reason we will win this war against Snoke.”

Leia pushes the painting of her mother to Rey. 

Rey only takes one look at it, before she collapses in shock.

\----

She locks herself away in her rooms and refuses to see anyone, including Ben. He can hear her crying when her clothes and jewelry his mother had made for her are delivered to her rooms. Already, rumors have spread of the long lost princess returning to claim what is rightfully hers. Suitors have shown up, sending gifts and ravens to his lady, showing interest in the next queen of the Southern Kingdom.

Ben cannot describe how happy he is when she refuses each one. 

It isn’t until the night before he is supposed to ride out to join his father does she make her way to his room. He sits up as she barges in without even bothering to knock, holding a lone candle that highlights her features.

“Ben.”

She’s dressed in a beautiful gown of black and gold embroidery. Antlers are threaded in a proud display along the corset. She looks radiant in it, then again, she looks radiant in everything.

“Rey, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t go, please. I don’t want to lose you.” She rushes to his side and sits on his bed. His heart pounds at the sight. This feels different than those nights under the stars—more forbidden. More tantalizing. 

“Rey,” he says softly as he grabs her free hand in his, “my father is out there. He needs all the help we can get if we are to stop this war. It is my duty as well as my right.” 

Rey turns away from him, staring at the candle in an unreadable way. He wants to ask, but before he has the chance she barrels on. “Then take me with you. I can fight. You know I can fight.”

“Rey, I can’t take a lady to a war. They’ll know, especially now. We can’t cut your hair, nor hide you away. The castle will be up in arms when you go missing.”

“They don’t care about  _ me _ .” Her tears glisten in the candlelight. “They care about the legacy I carry on my shoulders. The one I never asked for. I never wanted a kingdom, I wanted a family, a  _ home _ .”

“My mother will protect you.” Ben does his best to soothe her, rubbing soft circles against the back of her hand.

“Your mother wants to marry me off to some prat I’ve never even met,” she argues bitterly. Rey’s tears flow freely now as she sits on his bed with her shoulders slumped over. The image of a person defeated. 

He can’t console her. He knew since he was young his marriage would be to a profitable woman in the north, and now Rey has to learn about it as well. They sit in silence, thoughts turning around the probable future they face. The one where they are separated, forced to carry out the whims of their family. 

“Do you still mean it?” Her voice cuts through the silent, softly, an elegant sound in the night.

“Mean what?”

“That you could be my family.”

His blood begins to pound in his ears as the candlelight dances on her face and shows her soft and hopeful features. He inhales deeply and takes her hand in his, smiling as he feels the callouses. They may have put his Rey in a pretty dress, but she is still the girl he met so long ago. “I do. I will always mean that.”

She leans into him, and he can feel her dress press against his thighs as she draws closer to him. Ever so slowly, she angles her face against his, clearly letting her intentions be known. Never one to lead a lady on, he meets her halfway. He fights a shudder as her breath dances along his lips, hinting at what is about to come.

Their lips meet in a subdued fashion, both unsure of how to do this action correctly. The angle is a bit wrong. Ben adjusts his head slightly and presses against her lips firmer. She lets out a content sigh and he wants to live in this moment forever. He can picture a lifetime with her, sharing thousands of these moments. 

He raises his hand and places it behind her neck, encouraging her movement. Her lips part and she tentatively licks his, seeking permission she does not know she already has. Their tongues meet slowly, tangling with one another until he feels the curve of her body under his, so warm and inviting. 

Her nails rake up his back and he shivers against her, the action causing sweet and delicious friction between their bodies. She bucks her hips against his and he prays her thick skirts hide his hardening member. 

Rey pulls away and his lips follow her, still seeking her warmth. “Come with me,” she speaks into the air.

“Rey you know—”

“Please. We can leave this place, escape into the night and go east. I can show you Braavos. I want things back the way they used to be between us.”

He scooches away from her. “The way it was? We were running for our lives, always afraid we would be discovered. I slept with a knife every night, afraid someone would find out who I was, or worse, you were a girl under those clothes.” How can she not see that this is better than what it is? He rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated at how different their lives have become since he arrived back to Winterfell. “This is my home. Stay here, wait for me.”

“I won’t wait for anyone anymore. They never come back.” Rey’s voice is broken as tears trail down her cheeks, and Ben hates he is the one who made her cry.

“I’ll come back for you. I’ll  _ always _ come back for you.” He tried to hold her, to convey his love and promise through actions rather than his words. 

“You can’t promise that,” she argues, pushing him away and shaking her head. “Ben, you’re my family. Not some lord your mother wants me to marry for political reasons. You are the one I want. I—,” she stops to collect herself, but Ben already knows what she is about to say. She grasps his hands tightly, an anchor through the rough waves of her emotions. “I love you. I don’t know how to be a lady, or even a queen. I hardly even know what fork to use. But I know how you make me feel, and I know you feel it too. Be with me. Be my family.”

“I love you as well.” The smile she gives him is heartbreakingly beautiful. It hurts him even worse. “But I have to go. Stay here and be safe. You may not know how to rule, but you will. My mother will make sure you are taken care of, and find you a suitable match. If it were up to me, you would be Lady of Winterfell, Queen in the North, as well as Queen of my heart and soul.”

She pulls her hands away from him, her face turned away, now cast in darkness. 

“That’s not me,” she whispers. 

He doesn’t stop her when she leaves the room. By the time he embarks on the journey south to meet his father with the soldiers, he knows she is already gone.


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey cannot tell whose army is winning. The soldiers she passed all have different sigils branded in different places on their gear, and she has no idea which is which. All she knows is the wolf sigil of the Skywalkers, the squid sigil of King Snoke, and the serpent of Lord Hux’s army. 
> 
> She does not know who is an enemy and who is a friend—all she knows, all she repeats to herself, is to just get through one more soldier, just one more and she will find him.
> 
> Hundreds of soldiers lay dead in the field. Their corpses littering the ground, never to move again. At first, soldiers mistake her for a nurse, begging and pleading for help, until their eyes focus on her leather armor, the proud stag on her chest and the sword on her belt with an antler hilt—a gift from Lord Storm.
> 
> Many soldiers pray for mercy, mistaking her for their lost King Kenobi—unconscious words from dying men. Others with less life-threatening injuries catch sight of her braided hair, asking who she is. 
> 
> It’s the first time she states her true name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue after this. For those who have read this, thank you. I appreciate everyone sticking by my side with my chaotic schedule. Many thanks to my beta who is such a kick-ass writer.

The air is colder and seeps through the nice lining of her furs. She left all her nice dresses behind—dresses won’t stop the hunger pangs, and it would have just added more weight she didn’t need. Instead, her satchel is filled with bread, cheese, jerky, and fruit. Items she has stocked away ever since she was brought to Winterfell, preparing for the moment Ben’s mother would kick her out of her castle.

She scoffs at that notion now. Her horse teeters, surprised by the sudden sound, and she pets it reassuringly.

“There BB, it will be alright. As soon as we make it to the harbor, I’ll make sure to sell you to a nice family, one who will feed you carrots and oats and give you a warm stall to sleep in. It will be the best family you can have. Although, nothing can quite compare to Winterfell,” she says, her voice breaking. Her cheeks grow cold as if they were wet, and she is surprised to see she is crying. Droplets cling to her eyelashes, freezing in the wintry air. Sadness envelops her yet again, and she tries not to think about  _ why _ she feels this way. Instead she continues to talk to her only companion.

“I bet you’ve never been ridden by a lost princess. Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what I am. I’m not nobody, like I always thought. I’m just a nobody with a crown and a title and no family.” The tears are falling freely now, staining her cloak with salty water.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted really, a family; someone to love me for me. I’m sure you never had to worry about that. It would be like...like you finding out your grandfather was a famous horse, the best horse around, and suddenly everyone wants you. They are offering gold, sending gifts, writing sonnets, all because of someone you never met. A stupid name that was thought to have died long ago. And here is a stupid girl trying to deal with the consequences of that.

“I know I sound like the whiny nobles I used to tease, because what would they know of suffering? Well, I never knew we would have this one thing in common. The feeling of being an item which gets sold to the highest bidder. That’s what they wanted from me, you know,” she sniffles, wiping her nose on her glove.

BB whinnies in response, and Rey smiles a bit, pretending he is actually listening to her. 

She clears her throat and continues, “They want me to be queen and rule a kingdom. Except, I wouldn’t really rule, would I? I know nothing of politics or ruling, but the person who I marry will. And I’ll just be another slave to their whims as they use my name and power to get what they want. I don’t want that. A shadow of a queen is not me. I deserve to be more than that. I  _ will _ be more than that. I was not meant to be some lady who waits for her husband to come home from war.” By the time she finishes, her voice has turned bitter and hard but BB just continues eastward, oblivious to the emotions warring within his rider. 

“I thought the one person who would understand that would have been Ben. Instead, he told me to stay behind, and just let his mother set me up with some idiotic lord despite our feelings for one another. 

“That coward. After everything we’ve been through, he does not get to decide for me. My name does not change that. It wouldn’t matter if I was a Snow, a Rivers, a Kenobi, or a Skywalker. I am still Rey, and I make my own choices.”

At this revelation she halts the horse and he stills at once. She looks ahead at the wide snow-covered ground. Her breathing grows harsher as she whirls the horse around in the opposite direction, the moisture in her breath freezing as it exits her body. The ice on her eyelashes from her tears sticks to her skin each time she blinks.

She looks ahead, and then behind her. Unease grows in her stomach.

The thought making its way through her brain is one she can’t seem to shake, and when she realizes how feasible it might be...that’s when she decides. 

“I am both a Kenobi and a bastard. I may be no lady, but I am a fighter. I can use this to my advantage, somehow.”

Staring back westward, she knows where she needs to go, who she needs to see. 

And as she pushes BB onward with a firm kick to his sides, a thought echoes in her brain.

_ The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead. _

\----

Men are screaming, and the smell of blood and mud assault her sense of smell. Sweat and grime cover the soldier’s armor, and she refuses to think of what else.

Rey cannot tell whose army is winning. The soldiers she passed all have different sigils branded in different places on their gear, and she has no idea which is which. All she knows is the wolf sigil of the Skywalkers, the squid sigil of King Snoke, and the serpent of Lord Hux’s army. 

She does not know who is an enemy and who is a friend—all she knows, all she  _ repeats _ to herself, is to just get through one more soldier, just one more and she will find him.

Hundreds of soldiers lay dead in the field. Their corpses littering the ground, never to move again. At first, soldiers mistake her for a nurse, begging and pleading for help, until their eyes focus on her leather armor, the proud stag on her chest and the sword on her belt with an antler hilt—a gift from Lord Storm.

Many soldiers pray for mercy, mistaking her for their lost King Kenobi—unconscious words from dying men. Others with less life-threatening injuries catch sight of her braided hair, asking who she is. 

It’s the first time she states her true name.

Some men swear fealty, others push her onward demanding her to stop this battle. Fewer curse her name and her bloodline. There is one helpful soldier, a man named Snap whom she met in Winterfell. He tells her Ben is fighting alongside his father, where the battle is thickest. 

“Thank you Snap, I will remember your loyalty,” she promises as she climbs back on her horse before others can come forward and sidetrack her.

“Long live the Queen,” he smiles. Rey can’t help but shiver at his statement. Those are his last words before his eyes close. 

As she marches forward into the battle, soldiers who recognize her from Winterfell halt in their movements as they see her approach. She cannot comprehend why their soldiers would freeze mid-battle until she realizes last they heard she was to remain in Winterfell, safe by the hearth. Winterfell must have stopped all word of the runaway princess. Leave it to Leia to deal with the scandal. 

Whispers spread through the battlefield of the lost heir. Before her very eyes, soldiers from both sides stop their fighting to watch her carry onward. A majority of them bow, and those who do not are given a respected nod from her, acknowledging their honor for not slaying a soldier from behind.

This is unlike any battle she has ever heard of.

By the time she spots him, he is looking for her approach. No doubt word has spread the moment the armies watched their comrades stop and bow before a bloodline thought to be extinct. 

“Rey, what are you doing here?” His voice is thunderous, anger laces his tone and she has to fight back the urge to snap at him. Thousands are watching.

“The proper term is ‘Your Grace’ and you will address me as such,” she replies in what she hopes is a commanding tone. She prays none can tell how nervous she truly is.

His eyes widen a fraction and his eyes scan the audience. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I meant no offense.”

At this moment a roguish older gentleman strides forward. Standing next to him is a younger man with a salt and pepper beard and familiar eyes. He must be Leia’s brother. 

The minute the older man takes sight of her, he freezes. “You look just like Kira,” he breathes. 

The statement startles her. To maintain an air of confidence, she hops off the horse and walks to them.

“And you are?” Rey asks.

“I am Han Solo, Lord Benjen’s father. Just a commoner, Your Grace.” He steps close to her with a confident smirk, and she instantly likes him. 

“And you knew my mother?” Rey’s mind is going a million leagues a minute. There are people who still exist in this world who remember her family, who think of her as being somebody. It’s time she believes it as well. 

“Yes, she passed through the North once, when I was but a boy. She was on her way to meet Lord Skywalker.”

“Then it is a pleasure to meet you.” She bites back the smile as she watches him wink at her while he places a kiss on her hand.

“It is my honor to meet the woman who stopped a war.” Han steps aside, and she eyes the other man next to him. This must be Lord Luke Skywalker, the one who gave up his title to the lands to be a Maestor, yet he abandoned the study some years later. 

“Your Grace,” he inclines his head.

“Lord Skywalker.”

“I am no Lord.”

She tilts her head in acknowledgment, but does not fully bow. If there is one thing she learned from Lady Skywalker is to never bow to those below her, and none are higher than a queen.

Turning, she faces the armies, and takes a deep breath— 

“For those who do not know me, I am Aurelia of the House Kenobi, First of Her Name, Lady of Storm’s End, and the Rightful Heir to the Seven Kingdoms. For those who bow before me, I thank you for your loyalty to my family. For those who do not, I mean you no harm. I only ask you this, in the name of my grandfather, King Kenobi who was wrongfully slaughtered by the usurper Palpatine, to end this war and lay down your weapons.

“Snoke is no ruler. He is but a manipulator, eager to seize the throne and power for himself. He is a tyrant, one who will burn all those who stand in his way. I have seen the future of our kingdom, just the shape, but it is solid and clear. You will not bow before Snoke. You will stand with me and trust me to lead you in the right direction. Let me assist you in this matter. Together we can prove to him just how strong this kingdom is when it is united. I ask you now, will you stand with me? Will you trust me in my decisions to do what is best for the kingdom, now and always?”

She finishes her speech with a final breath. Stray hairs from her northern braid sweeps across her face as a wind breezes past, pushing the stench of decay away from the battlefield. Rey’s eyes look to the soldiers, all staring at one another, waiting to see who will make the first move. 

Silence stretches from a moment to eternity as those who remain standing do not move. Sweat prickles her palms and she wonders if she was too reliant on her family name to stop the battle. This proves why she would be a terrible ruler. Her eyes scan the horizon, searching for some movement to confirm her speech inspired  _ someone _ . 

The shock of her arrival is wearing off and she can tell some of the soldiers are eyeing their enemies warily. She looks to Ben, takes in his beautiful and aquiline face one last time before she is forced to unsheathe her sword. Rey has stood behind him through countless battles, and she will not stop today. 

The moment her hand touches the hilt, the spell which fell over the army seems to dissipate. 

“Long live the Queen!” a voice shouts. Rey turns her head quickly, but she does not find the soldier. 

“Long live the Queen!” Other voices soon chime in, the sounds climbing over another—a wayward song in which people seem to remember the notes to, singing the melody of her bloodline, setting fire to her skin. 

Rey gazes across the battlefield in wonder. The battlefield is her kingdom, and these people her subject. For one brief moment in time, a Kenobi reigns again. 


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the long awaited epilogue to my gendrya inspired Reylo story for my amazing friend. As I'm sure you can tell, I decided to give them my own ending since Game of Thrones did a disservice to everyone in season 8. I hope you enjoy this ending and thank you so much for sticking with me. 
> 
> As always, I couldn't have done this without my amazing beta. She did such a great job and still stuck by me even though I suck at introspecting. Thanks for everything!

It takes a month for Snoke to be tried and beheaded for his crimes—the final swing is struck by Ben, in honor of the old ways. The Valyrian steel sword sings as it slices through flesh and bone like water.

Rey forces herself to not look away.

The throne in King’s Landing sits without a Kenobi. In her stead, Lord Oberyn Djarin from House Mandalorian acts as regent. Their only correspondence has been through letters, but he is a distant relative of her grandmother’s, and Rey is fond of him and his decisions for the kingdom. At Rey’s insistence, he writes a letter to Lady Skywalker, demanding Rey be married in union with the King in the North to bring peace to the land once and for all. 

It only takes a week for her to agree, once Leia is sure the regent is not trying to take the throne for himself by marrying off Rey. 

In response, Rey keeps her secret close to her chest. The smile Ben grows when he hears the news in the hall of his ancestral home will forever be burned into her mind, and her heart—she knows it is worth it the minute his eyes meet hers.

The night they marry the world is awash in a fresh blanket of snow. Sound is muffled, and there is a serene silence surrounding the castle. As is the custom for Northern weddings, the ceremony takes place at night in the forest of the old gods. 

Her cousin who sits on the throne sends his wife, Lady Carasynthia Dune, in his stead to escort her to the forest. The moment she meets Cara, a bond is formed, and a small piece of Rey’s soul sings at the growing family she has found. 

Rey’s soul seems to sing loudest when she sees her Ben waiting at the end of the makeshift aisle. He stands next to his mother and father, both looking upon him with proud smiles and frozen tears in their eyes. Rey refuses to let herself think what her parents would have looked like on this day.

Instead, she focuses on the bouquet of winter roses in her hands, and the way Lady Cara squeezes her hand in reassurance, and looks Rey over once more, ensuring she is the picture-perfect queen before she walks down to meet her future husband

The off the shoulder neckline offers no warmth to her bare arms, but she does admit to herself it is beautiful. The soft white gown reminds her of freshly fallen snow and is decorated with gold vines and antlers—it is the perfect compliment to the joining of the Skywalker and Kenobi houses. The ring Annie gave her hangs on a chain around her neck, the cold metal unable to warm despite its close proximity to her skin. The only thing keeping her warm at this moment is the black cloak around her shoulders. 

Candles light the path she is supposed to take. As they begin to take their steps forward the only sound that can be heard is the rustling of her dress and the sound of their boots stepping on the powdered snow. The walk seems to slow, stretching the moment out to an indescribably amount of time. Despite the sluggish pace, she finds herself standing in front of Ben, his eyes filled with wonder and happiness.

_ You look beautiful, Scavenger,  _ he mouths at her.

_ Shut it, My Lord,  _ her lips forming the silent words.

They grin they give one another is not lost to the spectators.

Ben’s uncle Luke stands before them, prepared to unite them. Tradition dictates it would be the father of the man who holds the ceremony, but in honor of Ben’s grandfather’s loyalty to the Kenobi line and as a way to honor his memory, the family agreed for Luke to host the wedding.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Luke asks, signaling the start of their forever.

“Aurelia of House Kenobi comes here to be wed,” Cara answers. “A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble—she comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”

At this question, Ben steps forward and takes her hand. Her smile blossoms on her face, and she knows she has the big toothy grin he loves to tease her about, but she can’t seem to care. 

“Benjen of House Skywalker, heir to Winterfell, and King in the North,” he whispers. The words dance above her skin, causing her to shiver in the softness of his tone. “Who gives her?”

“Carasynthia of House Mandalorian, who is wife to Lord Regent Oberyn Djarin, cousin of Aurelia Kenobi.” Cara’s voice wavers but the words are clear. 

Rey knows she should smile or nod at her, but she can’t seem to take her eyes off of Ben. Instead, Cara squeezes her arm in a loving gesture and lets go.

“Aurelia,” Luke turns to her, “do you take this man?”

With no hesitation, she speaks the words, “I take this man.”

Luke takes a breath, but before he can proceed, Rey stops him. She ignores the butterflies in her stomach, and the shocked gazes on the guests. This is not the way.

“I take this man not just as my husband, but as my king. In the name of the old gods and the new, I renounce my claim to the southern throne, hereby entrusting it to Lord Oberyin to rule. I never knew my family, and then I met Ben, and I will do all I can to stay with him. I will be his Queen, Lady of Winterfell, and he will be my Lord,” she smirks at him and her heart feels as if it may burst when she sees his watering eyes. “From this day, to my last.”

Luke blinks rapidly, taking in the news in stride as he continues to the ceremony. “Benjen, do you take this woman?”

“I take this woman, not just as my wife, but my Queen as well.” The wide smile on his face shows his dimples and crooked teeth. Snowflakes catch on his thick eyelashes, and his hair curls from the damp snow. She mourns the loss of feeling his skin on hers, but the leather gloves he wears are a close second. Rey knows in this moment she will forever remember his face.

“I invite the family to join the silent prayer for their marriage and heed the old gods answer our call,” Luke calls out, his bushy beard seems to hide his smile, but his voice is gruff, hiding his emotions.

Ben assists Rey as she kneels in the snow, and then he joins her. Together, as one, their eyes land on the face of the weirwood tree.

_ The only God I ever believed in was Death, always present in my life, but if the old gods exist, and you can hear me, then please honor our ceremony. I pray for our marriage to be safe and happy, for us to love one another as much as we do in this moment. I pray for strength and courage to be the Queen he deserves, and I pray for patience as I learn the customs. I pray none will command me to rule in King’s Landing despite my name. I pray for the time to explore the world and go on adventures with my Ben. Above all else, I pray for our family, though it may be small, it is all I ever had and wanted—to be with my Lord, now and always.  _

They turn to look at one another and a warmth envelops her that has nothing to do with the clothes she wears, and everything to do with the warmth in his gaze. It is clear to her that he wished for everything she did. 

He grasps her hand and they stand together. All eyes are on them as he reaches for the clasp of her cloak. Rey is surprised to see his hands shake and she realizes this is the moment he has been waiting for, ever since she had stopped dressing in his colors.

Unlocking the clasp, the black cloak falls to the ground, staining the pure snow, symbolizing her leaving her family name behind. She fights the urge to shiver as warmth leaves her body.

Leia walks to her son, and he leans over as she presses the new cloak in his hands. Their foreheads touch, and she rises on the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to her son’s brow in a mother’s blessing. 

Ben turns back to face Rey, and he fans out the new clock. She briefly admires the detailing, how the black stitching makes it appear as the fur on the direwolf sigil, the white fur lining the cloak contrasting Ben’s. A splash of red draws her eye and she sees the bottom is embroidered with the red leaves of the weirwood trees. Before she can examine it closer, Ben draws it over her shoulder, a proud look in his eye.

The cape is warmer than the one she wore down the pathway. Subconsciously she tells herself it is his way of protecting her, sheltering her, symbolically making her a Northerner. 

Then again, anything would seem warm after being cloakless in this weather.

His fingers deftly clasp the cloak together, antlers behind the direwolf and she loves seeing their two sigils together. 

Leaning into one another, they softly press their lips together and Rey revels in the feeling. His lips are just as soft as she remembers but dry from the cold. She knows hers are just as bad. Rey fights the urge to deepen it while they stand in the holy forest, but she consoles herself with a tiny swipe of her tongue on his lips. They pull away and a blush smatters his face at her mischievous gesture, reminding them both of the other union they get to partake in that night.

As they celebrate in the castle, with drinks flowing and food constantly being brought from the kitchens, he pulls her aside.

“Do you regret giving up your throne? Your freedom? You said it before, you’re no lady.” Ben’s tone is concerned, not for her answer, but for her well-being. His face is soft and loving, eager to listen to whatever she has to say. 

Rey takes a moment, and stares at her hands, doing her best to compile her thoughts in a cohesive manner. 

“Do you remember when you admitted you knew I was a girl?” The question startles him, but she smiles softly at him as she takes his hands in hers. “I admitted I knew you were born of noble birth. Yet, neither of us sold one another for money or safe passage. That was the first time anyone ever did anything like that for me.” Her voice chokes as she tries to get through the rest of her statement without crying, but the action is futile. Tears fall freely as she continues, “I may have a title now, but you never looked at me like I was a means to an end, you looked at me like the scrawny scavenger I was. As long as I’m with you, I’m willing to try anything.”

The kiss they share is so indecent the guests hoot and holler and Han demands it is time for them to celebrate the rest of the wedding night. 

It was the first of many nights for them. Peace reigned in Winterfell for generations, the townsfolk always attributing it to the Kenobi bloodline finally getting back their power and righting the wrongs of their past.

Their family, though, knew peace was thanks to the lost scavenger and her lord. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and support me here - [tumblr](https://commandercrouton.tumblr.com/) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Cmndr_Crouton)!


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